| ten words seeking self hatred whip time against some wall pitted and broken by fists when late night makes broken hands more desirable than touching flesh near enough. remember if you see that body lying beside you as a person - leaving, not calling, gets harder I’ll give you one year, she said and you took it night by night until all you had left were two hands reaching for what was missing this is the way worlds turn this is the way worlds turn bite your tongue and you feel sleep all day or work and forget how what night gave flew with apple cores, banana peels, under coffee grounds in trash my thing, new one says, my thing is what happens, happens go with it everything has purpose - teeth marks in shoulders always heal woman, human, inhumane, dismantle, manhandle, manage, mismanage - man always somehow in there, somewhere no, Mr. Eliot, not like ancient women, but young, and sweet, new - revolving, burning fuels of desire in worlds dark enough to forget come morning, alone if you lift your life in air like a kite on a windy day and just can’t let go, remember some tree, power line will rise - a blessing to help you one said once, anything you want,
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Ed Shannon
If you've any comment on this poem, Ed Shannon would be pleased to hear from you.
